


Promises

by Califi62



Category: Angel: the Series
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-30
Updated: 2020-12-28
Packaged: 2021-03-10 03:28:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 8
Words: 15,353
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27797740
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Califi62/pseuds/Califi62
Summary: A second promise made voids a first with repercussions. AU.
Relationships: Angel & Cordelia Chase, Angel/Buffy Summers
Comments: 3
Kudos: 8





	1. New Beginnings

[ ](https://imgur.com/ZM874Wi)

_**  
** _

_**Epiphany** : “It’s okay, Wesley. I don’t want you to come back and work for me.”  
“Oh. I see.”  
“I wanna work for you.”  
“You wanna work for us?”  
“Yeah. I do.”  
“Why?”  
“Because I think I can help.”  
“How do we know we can trust you?”  
“I guess I’ll just have to earn that.”  
_

***

Entering the lobby of the dark, deserted hotel, Angel absently rubbed the back of his neck. He ached all over- but in a good way for once.

Fighting a vision with Cordy Wes and Gunn after his self-enforced exile had felt like coming home.

_Home…_

Looking around the unkempt lobby Angel realized he had a lot of cleaning to do to make it presentable for the others when they returned tomorrow.

True, Cordy still held herself apart from the others in hesitant welcome, and each time their eyes had met, her mistrust shone brightly. But she kept the peace and that gave him hope. Hope that things would eventually work out.

Angel doubted it was going to be easy. After all, He’d abandoned her- his seer; his friend. And threatened her. He grimaced in shame at the recollection. He could still see the hurt that had glittered in suspiciously moist eyes as he’d done so. Over a damned book, no less.

The unsavory thoughts that had been in his mind at the time still hounded him: the desire for Cordy to continue to deny him the book- and the twisted wish that Wesley hadn’t been around to give her reason to restrain her natural contrariness.

Even now he was unsure as to what he’d have done it that had been the case, but unexpected lust had reared its ugly head at the fire in those beautiful eyes. So maybe it was a good thing the other man was there after all.

 _”You hurt my feelings..”_ Angel was just glad it was only her feelings he’d hurt. It could have been so much more…. No. Where Cordelia chase was concerned, it definitely wasn’t going to be easy.

But he had time, and it would be worth it in the end to see that long lost smile on her face- aimed his way instead of just the others, anyway. That still rankled more than anything.

With a deep sigh, he made his way towards the maintenance cupboard, shrugging off the unreasonable jealousy over the closeness developed between Cordy and the others, deciding to get a start on the lobby and hopefully clear his head at the same tme..

Pausing as he came level with the counter, he noticed that the message light blinked on the phone. For a moment, Angel considered ignoring it, then remembered the almost fatal repercussions the last time he’d done that. Reaching out a hand for the button, he paused again.

What if Wes had called? What if they’d changed their minds? He swallowed down the lump of fear that formed in his throat at the thought, and then slowly pressed the button. Better to know now. At best it would put the immense cleaning job off for a little longer, he thought wryly.

After listening attentively to the message, Angel’s brow by now deeply furrowed, he finally turned off the machine and took the stairs two at a time. Ten minutes later he descended, overnight bag in one hand and car keys in the other.

* * *

“ I didn’t even start CPR until they told me. I fell apart. That’s how good I am at being a grownup.” Buffy muttered with self-condemnation. Angel pulled her closer, hugging her tight.

“Buffy…” he began softly, only to be interrupted.

“And it’d be okay if it was just me I had to worry about. But Dawn…” her bottom lip trembled and Buffy bit down on it.

“Look, it’s okay. I know you don’t feel like it now, but you are strong, Buffy. You’re gonna figure this out. And you have people to help you. You don’t have to do this alone.” he reassured her.

Looking up at the sky, Buffy commented, “It’s gonna be light soon.”

The reminder caused Angel to look up and shift slightly against the tree trunk he leaned against. “I can stay in town as long as you want me.” He offered after a long pause.

“How’s forever? Does forever work for you?” Buffy asked tremulously, turning her head to look up at him, then sighed and sat up straighter. “That’s a bad idea. I’m seriously needy right now.” She added with an apologetic twist of her shiny pink lips.

“ Let me worry about the neediness. I can handle it,” he replied reassuringly, giving her another comforting squeeze.

They looked at each other for a moment and then Buffy suddenly leant in and kissed him. The kiss remained soft and lingered for several seconds before he drew his head back. It had been sweet and pleasant; poignantly reminding him of things past, but the heat they once shared seemed to be missing.

It had been a long night, and not exactly the time for making out sessions, Angel reasoned tiredly.

Buffy rested her head against his chest and let out a soft sigh of contentment. A calm silence surrounded them for a while, and then she spoke. “So…. Did you mean it? – You’ll stay?” she tensed in readiness for his reply, feeling his big body tighten too. Her lips pressed together as she waited for him to reel off all the reasons it was a bad idea.

“I meant it, yes.” Angel finally replied, adding, “If that’s what you want?” Her nod and the tightening of her arms around his waist caused him to swallow hard as it hit him exactly what he’d just committed himself to, and as she snuggled closer to him, Angel closed his eyes and silently sent out a prayer for forgiveness to his friends in LA.

* * *

“Wes?” Cordy blinked sleepily up at her early morning visitor with a mix of surprise, concern and irritation. “You do realize it’s only…” she glanced at her watch only to find a bare wrist.

Oh. That was right. Wes had got her up out of her nice cosy bed at… “6.30 in the morning?” she added belatedly after grabbing his hand and checking the watch on his wrist.

Her eyes widened with the first stirrings of alarm “is everything okay?” she asked anxiously, instinctively pulling him inside her apartment.

“We- myself and Gunn are fine, “ Wes quickly reassured her, gently pulling from her tight grip and turned to close the front door. He paused a moment, forehead against the wood. The news he had the misfortune to relay ate into him. He couldn’t put it off any longer.

On turning back to face Cordy he was glad to at least see the anxiety brewing moments before on her sleep-flushed face had faded, now obviously purely curious as to what brought him here at such an ungodly hour.

Even as she relaxed, Wes tensed as he prepared to drop the latest bombshell. “Cordelia…” Wes rubbed a weary hand over his face before catching her questioning gaze. Cautiously he continued. “It’s about Angel-.”

“Something’s happened- what’s happened?” Cordy, already a little antsy, not to mention irked at being dragged out of her bed only several hours after crawling into it was immediately struck by the growing gravity in the lines of Wes’ face.

Everything told her it wasn’t going to be good news. “He- he hasn’t been staked, has he?” the last word came out on a quaver as the possibility popped into her head.

Angel had dropped them all off at her Apartment after the fight, and who knows what could have happened on the way back to that neglected hotel. He’d made even more enemies since his turn to the Beige; especially with Wolfram & Hart.  
Her heart hammered so hard in her chest; Cordy pressed a hand against it as she waited for a response.

“No! Nothing like that. He’s…fine,” Wes hastened to reassure her, not that surprised by Cordelia’s emotional reaction to the thought. Thing may have been truly dreadful the past several months, but there was no doubting that although she was indeed furious and deeply hurt by Angel’s actions, her feelings, developed over the years had merely been pushed to one side; not erased completely.

“He called me about an hour ago. Unfortunately, there has been a change of, um, plans.” Wes watched as her initial curiosity changed to wariness. Realizing he was still keeping her waiting- mainly due to the poke she gave his shoulder and the frown creasing her brow, Wes continued in a deliberately upbeat tone.

“It looks like it’s just you, Gunn and me again, Cordelia,” Wes blinked and looked away for a moment on seeing the confusion growing in her eyes at his declaration and dove right into the reason for his being there.

“Angel informed me that he was in Sunnydale.” He watched as the color drained out of her face.

“He’s with Buffy?” Cordy’s question sounded more like a statement of fact, but Wes nodded anyway.

“Apparently a lot has occurred there recently, and, well,” Wes scuffed the tip of his shoe into the mat he was standing on as he attempted to explain Angel’s change of heart. “From what he tells me, Buffy needs him with her.”

“He- he’s staying there? For good?” when Wes cleared his throat and shuffled awkwardly on the spot Cordy added tightly. “He’s not coming back, right?”

“It doesn’t seem that way.” Wes finally managed to articulate. All the air seemed to whoosh from her body at his confirmation.

He mutely watched as Cordy rubbed her hands over her face, fingers pressing against trembling lips, he noted poignantly, before dropping her arms and looking up at him with frighteningly blank eyes.

“Well, it’s a good job we didn’t give up our office space then, isn’t it?” she threw him a blinding smile, “Since you’re here, I might as well put the kettle on. Tea?” she asked with forced brightness and turned away to stride purposely towards the kitchen.

Wes made his way to one of the easy chairs in her lounge and almost collapsed into it as he listened to Cordy potter away in her kitchen; the sounds for once not that soothing as he heard the opening and closing of cupboard doors and water pouring into the kettle.

So much for new beginnings. His lips twisted into a mirthless smile. Strangely enough, Wes wasn’t as surprised as he thought he’d be that Angel had once again let them down. He glanced over to the kitchen door. But Cordelia…

At that moment, Wes doubted he could ever forgive the vampire with the supposed soul for breaking Cordelia just that little bit more.

“Good riddance,” he muttered under his breath, reminding himself that he still had to contact Gunn. Another one of the group he doubted would be surprised either.


	2. Regrets

[](https://imgur.com/9ptMXjE)

Sitting back in the farthest corner of the Magic Box, Angel watched the others with moody eyes. The only reason for him being here was that Buffy had turned up at the mansion earlier than expected and caught him before he could go out patrolling alone.

Four months had passed by since that fateful night, and the darkness that had all but consumed him the last time had gradually begun to return.

“Angel? You with the plan so far?” His head jolted up at the sudden question that Buffy aimed his way, and he nodded automatically.

Buffy’s strained expression softened a little at his mute response and, not with a little relief turned back to the others. “Spike. You’re with Angel. You need to stay out of sight until the whole nest come out.” She informed the casually lounging blonde vampire.

He nodded with feigned boredom and then threw an irritated look over towards Angel. “So you want us to be the surprise package, right?” At Buffy’s nod, he added sourly, “I don’t have to hold hands with the Poof do I?”

“No.” Buffy glared at him, albeit half-heartedly. “Just keep out of sight- though it might be a good idea to be on the opposite side so you both come in from different angles”, she mused, half to herself, then went on to outline the rest of the plan for the night.

Angel’s lips twisted at the irony of sharing his space with his one-time evil ally. Evil. It didn’t take much to remember that point, although it seemed Buffy tended to forget.

Having a chip wouldn’t have stopped his soulless self from continuing his path of death and destruction, and he knew from their history that normally the same would have gone for Spike. The decision to play nice with the Slayer led to only one motive in his mind.

For a vampire with two Slayers’ deaths under his belt already, it seemed ironically poetic that Spike had fallen for one along the line.

Buffy had drawn the amorous attentions of a vampire yet again, and Angel didn’t miss the tragic irony of that either. He couldn’t believe she hadn’t cottoned on to the fact by now. One thing Spike could never be accused of possessing was subtlety.

Angel’s thoughts drifted aimlessly, not that bothered by his unusual lack of possessive anger over Spike’s interest in Buffy. Several years ago, he’d have put the young whelp in his place in a way that would have left a mark for a long time, and knew the fact that he hadn’t even warned him off made the blonde vampire deeply curious as to why.

Oddly, Angel had to admit to experiencing jealousy over the occasional men Cordelia had dated in the past. Thoughts of his seer instantly soured his mood.

After just over a month in Sunnydale, Angel had returned to LA to collect some more belongings, not completely able to take all of his possessions and refusing to question why. He’d lingered in the city for a couple of nights and ended up shadowing the friends he’d left behind.

At first, he’d kept to watching the activities in their shabby office, and witnessed helplessly as his seer had a vision, hitting the floor before the others could catch her. As pale as she was after, Cordy had still insisted in accompanying them, and Angel ended up following them, a nameless fear hounding his heels.

It had almost killed him to stand back and watch as they took on a vicious looking demon, but thankfully, they worked well together, Cordelia toting a crossbow she used skillfully, until they’d dispatched the latest threat to the victims in her vision.

The fact that Cordelia was there at all had made it difficult for him to stay in the shadows, insanely furious at Wes and Gunn for allowing her to go along. Only the fact that he’d left them- her, high and dry kept him hidden.

For the next two nights, Angel found himself stalking Cordelia, once even spending most of a night watching her in her apartment.

He’d rang her a few times too on both her cell and home phone, even going so far as to leave tentative messages, asking her to call back. Up to date she hadn’t. One time he’d rang as he watched her sitting in her lounge. As soon as she’d seen who was calling, she’d stepped back from the phone, arms tightly hugging a body that had stiffened in…? Angel hadn’t been able to tell from his angle on the roof opposite.

Then the answer machine kicked in. Keeping his voice on an even keel, Angel again reeled off a casual greeting, followed by a request that she call back, then burned inside when she erased the message as soon as he’d broken the connection.

He’d left for Sunnydale within the hour, spirit lower than it had ever been. From then on it had been so easy to let the cold slide back in, the familiar sensation almost a comfort.

When he’d returned, Spike casually informed him that Buffy had ended her relationship with Riley. That was when it truly hit home that he’d made the biggest mistake of his unlife. The very thought of picking up where they’d left off had brought a knot of dread in his gut.

So far, Buffy hadn’t attempted to move further than the odd kiss, and as the nights passed, even that tentative overture eventually ceased, and all too soon they were back to familiar awkwardness, where talking only seemed to ease when discussing business.

Nothing had changed regarding the rest of the Scoobies. Xander Harris still hated him. Rupert Giles still distant, and Willow, who seemed more mature, but was still skittish around him. Dawn refused outright to talk to him, and Angel had yet to figure out if it were over the loss of Riley Finn or her alliances were with Spike, who she seemed to spend a lot of time with.

Being relegated to Buffy’s sidekick once more had been the most difficult to bear- the only difference this time was that he now shared that position with Spike.

Gradually Angel began avoiding the group and their patrols when he could, instead taking to patrolling solo, the need to find at least one kill to ease the cold slowly taking over his soul.

“We all set? Then let’s do it.” The upbeat feminine voice pulled him out of his dark thoughts and he rose fluidly to his feet, making directly for the door in relief, only to be halted by a small but strong hand catching hold of his arm. He looked down into chameleon irises that shifted to dark green, revealing Buffy’s inner concerns as she locked gazes with strangely chilled brown.

“You okay?” she asked, unconsciously chewing at her bottom lip, when for a moment Angel just stood there unresponsively. Then he nodded, a faint smile touching his pale mouth.

“Yeah, I’m good,” he finally replied, deliberately softening his tone.

“Good. Okay. Let’s go kick some asses- or is it Assi?” Buffy frowned before shrugging and smiled brightly up at him. “Kicking, lots of it, anyway.” Her warm fingers flexed on his forearm before dropping to her side. And then she turned away.

Angel watched with expressionless eyes as she walked over to speak to Spike, her spine noticeably stiffening when he merely smirked cockily down at her. Losing interest Angel turned his back on them and exited the shop, the need to get this over and done with eating at him.

* * *

Less than an hour after returning to the mansion, Angel heard the front door open, then close after a long pause. He didn’t need to hear the soft yet rapid heartbeat or take in the familiar scent to know who his visitor was.

“Buffy.” Angel turned from the fire he’d been stoking to face his ex love.

Shifting awkwardly under his strangely unreadable eyes, Buffy shoved her hands in her jeans pockets and unconsciously took a defensive stance.

As she gazed up at the vampire who used to mean the world to her, it again shoved home the realization that things had changed too much to go back to where they once were. She’d never been able to read Angel, but never had it been so painfully obvious to her. She didn’t know this man…vampire anymore.

It wasn’t for the first time in the last few months that Buffy had regretted her impulsive grabbing of Angel’s offer to stay with both hands, but a part of her had really hoped that things would work out.

They hadn’t. It wasn’t even a case of old issues rearing their ugly heads, as they hadn’t even got to that point- which should have flashed a big neon warning over her head. Once upon a time, it would have been the only thing on both their minds.

Within a month of arriving, his reassuring presence had subtly changed into something she couldn’t quite put her finger on, and when he’d returned from his round-trip to LA, which had actually turned out to last several days, his whole demeanor had completely changed.

Emotional distance was never something Buffy could have associated with herself and Angel. Hell, the severe lack of it had been the big, giant chunk of the problem. The reason he finally left. But as the days went by, that was exactly the vibes she now picked up.  
Plus it was getting harder to avoid a physical distance growing between them, only able to pin him down in daylight hours when he couldn’t vanish into the night.

His whole attitude had changed- and not for the good. Recalling Angel’s brief revelations of the ‘dark time’ he went through shortly before arriving in Sunnydale, Buffy was close to refuting his reassurance that he’d overcome it.

Sometimes the chilling emptiness revealed in his eyes sickeningly reminded Buffy of his alter ego, and that didn’t rest well with her at all, and for once she actually took heed of Giles’s growing concerns over Angel’s strange behavior of late- which eventually brought her here tonight.

Cutting himself off, patrolling alone; the Scoobies finding noticeable traces of his earlier presence – the corpses of demons littering Sunnydale- some they were out searching for themselves. It wasn’t the fact that Angel had got there first that caused Buffy to worry, but the sheer savagery of their deaths. Quite a few times, the remains had left even her choking back nausea.

Tonight had been a real eye-opener for all of them. Even Spike had seemed stunned by Angel’s vicious elimination of more than his fair share of the vampire nest they’d pinpointed and attacked.

On hearing Spike’s muttered, “summat you ain’t telling us, Peaches?” just before Angel strode off once the cleanout was done, had sent shivers of dread along her skin.

“What Spike said to you earlier… Should I be worried?” Buffy now confronted Angel with the question that had plagued her ever since, then waited with bated breath and a hand sliding out of her pocket to edge closer to the stake tucked in her waistband.

Catching the discreet move caused a dry smile to stretch Angel’s mouth and he folded his arms, outwardly relaxed. “I still have a soul, if that’s what you’re asking.” He replied, his dark eyes watchful.

Buffy flushed but tilted her chin defensively, even as her hand moved away from the concealed weapon. “After the show you put on earlier, a big part of me finds that kinda hard to believe,” she responded defensively. “And not just tonight either.” His eyebrow rose at her words.

“Trust me,” Angel coolly replied. “If I was soulless, you’d know it by now.”

“Oh? How?” Buffy retorted, arms lifting to hug herself. “If I remember correctly, Angelus was pretty damn good at deception.” Then Buffy gasped aloud when suddenly he was directly in front of her.

“You’re all still alive, aren’t you?” His whispered words slithered down her spine, and Buffy was unable to resist the urge to step back.

Seemingly satisfied with her reaction, Angel turned away and went back to the fireplace. He reached for the poker and shifted the gently burning logs. Buffy took a moment to regulate her breathing before taking a few steps forward.

“What’s going on?” she asked, genuinely confused. “Why are you being like this? When you first came back, everything was…good. What changed?”

Placing the poker back on its stand, Angel slowly turned to face her, his expression softening slightly. “We all change over time,” he replied almost gently.

Buffy shrugged fatalistically. “Yeah, I get that- but we’re talking about, what, a few months?” Her lips pursed for a moment then she caught his gaze. “Did something happen when you went back to LA?” His brow furrowed.

“No.” His reply almost sounded disappointed and it caught her attention.

“You met up with your…friends?” The word almost lodged in Buffy’s throat as she thought of who those friends were. Cordelia Chase and Wesley Wyndham-Pryce. The combination still seriously boggled her mind.

A heavy sigh seemed to be ripped from Angel as he shook his head. “They’re doing okay without me. No need to make things more awkward.” Buffy’s head cocked to the side at his turn of phrase.

“Awkward? Why would things be…. oh,” she muttered a mental ‘doh’ as she recalled exactly what Angel had been up to with them in the first place. “The Agency. So it’s doing okay without you?” she asked curiously.

“Looks like it.” Angel’s mouth twisted bitterly as he recalled just how well they seemed to be doing- without him. “Wes and Gunn are fighting Cordy’s visions-”

“Hold up there,” Buffy cut in abruptly, her face expressing her shock. “ _Cordelia_ is your new seer?” At Angel’s nod, she blew out a breath and started pacing.

“You lost your seer last year; you told me that, but,” she looked up and glared at the dark vampire. “…You didn’t tell me _Cordelia_ took his spot. It must be a real killer for someone like her,” she added absently, attempting to process this new information.

For the first time since she’d arrived, emotion flared in Angel’s eyes. “You don’t know her anymore, Buffy, Cordelia’s changed a lot, …” he faltered for a moment, then turned away. “Just don’t talk about her like that.”

Buffy’s cheeks flushed a little at the heated reprimand, admitting to herself that he was right; she hadn’t been around to see how time had changed them, as it had herself and her friends.

Moving closer, she stopped directly behind him. “Why did you offer to stay here?” Her sudden question threw Angel Completely and for a moment he just froze to the spot.

“You needed me,” he finally replied, then turned to face her. “You dumped soldier boy soon after.” He added, his tone slightly accusing.

Buffy stepped back at that, her eyes wide. “I didn’t ‘dump soldier boy’-and God that sentence has Spike written all over it,” she retorted angrily, making a mental note to kick his skinny ass a few times for, as usual stirring things. After running agitated fingers through her hair, she took a deep breath before continuing.

“Riley and I…well, we were having issues way before you came back on the scene.” Her lips trembled a little before she was able to control her features into some semblance of calm. Even now it hurt to think about. “Your turning up just helped me do something I’d put off for a while.”  
Buffy looked Angel directly in the eye. “But my decision had nothing to do with you.” Not wanting to linger on that particularly painful subject she veered the topic away.

“This new gig you’ve got going- patrolling Sunnydale solo. Maybe you don’t remember, but we work as a team here.” She reminded him tightly. “And the way you’re going about it…” distaste reflected on her pretty face recalling his savage killing techniques earlier that night. “I’m a Slayer, not a butcher.”

“And I’m a demon, not a Slayer,” he harshly reminded her, Then shrugged and added; “I get the job done.”

Buffy shook her head slowly. “And leave me and the others to clean up after you.” She paused then added, “Is this how you worked in LA with the others? Cos I have to tell you, it just isn’t acceptable here.” When he stiffened, his pale face closing off at the mention of the others, she sighed heavily.

“You regret staying here, don’t you?” Angel turned his face away and Buffy read the answer loud and clear. She cursed herself for not realizing earlier. “Why did you offer if this wasn’t what you wanted? And what about your ‘friends’ in LA? How do they feel about you leaving?” She asked, belatedly realizing it hadn’t occurred to her to ask when he first offered to stay. The rapid fire of questions stopped when Angel finally turned away to slump down into the nearest chair.

“I didn’t think you’d take me up on it,” he baldly admitted. Buffy gaped, not expecting that.

“Well, that was a dumbass thing to do.” Her expression stricken even as her tone reflected amazement at his stupidity . Angel flinched almost imperceptibly, the word ‘dumbass’ reminding him of the woman he’d left behind, but otherwise didn’t respond.

After several minutes of silence, Buffy knelt at his feet and rested her hands on his hard thighs. “Talk to me, Angel,” she begged. “Things can’t go on like this. Right now, your being here feels just like another burden on top of everything else.” When he leaned away from her, mouth set in a thin line, she climbed to her feet wearily and turned towards the fire, reaching out suddenly cold hands to the flames in an attempt to chase away the chill.

“Maybe… She sighed almost brokenly. “Maybe the best thing for both of us is for you to go back.” This last hesitant sentence had Angel rising to his feet.

“You said you needed me here,” he reminded her doggedly, but his lackluster words told her something she’d known deep down- but had ignored, within weeks of him being in Sunnydale. They’d both moved on. Riley had shown her that.

Feeling fragile and the inability to connect with Riley throughout her mother’s illness, and finally her death, Angel had arrived just when she so desperately wanted to go back to a time that seemed less painful. Her mouth twisted wryly. When had it ever been ‘less painful’ with Angel around, she thought.

Her wan face tilted up to his, eyes shadowed with sadness and apology. “I thought I did,” she whispered hoarsely. “I wanted- no, _needed_ to believe that things stay the same no matter what.” She caught his dark gaze and swallowed. “But I made a mistake- we both did.”

He looked away for a moment, then turned back and nodded in agreement and her heart clenched. It was one thing admitting it to herself, another altogether having him agree. Moving away from him, she turned her back and attempted to compose herself.

When finally she looked back, Buffy found that he hadn’t moved, and a part of her missed the old days where by this point Angel would have reached out and took her in his arms to reassure that everything was going to be okay.

But it wasn’t. Lifting her chin with a trace of her usual indomitable strength of will, she continued. “You don’t have to worry about me. I’ll deal. I always do in the end, plus I have the others.” Her mouth twisted into a travesty of a smile. “I just lost sight of them for a while,” she admitted almost guiltily.

Then she frowned as another thought occurred to her. “It’s good that Cordelia has people to lean on too,” Buffy pinned Angel to the spot with strangely clear eyes and added pointedly; “But still, I’m thinking right now that she probably needs you a hell of a lot more than me.”

Shoving his hands deep into his pockets, Angel turned to gaze into the fire with darkened eyes. “You’re wrong. She stopped needing me a long time ago,” he eventually replied, his face tight and cold.

“But… she’s your seer, right?” Aren’t you supposed to be her,” Buffy shrugged, “ I don’t know- her champion or something?”

“I’m _not_ a champion.” He scowled heavily adding; “never have been”. Then he looked up. “As for Cordy… I lost my chance with her- and the others, the last time I turned my back on them.”

“Last time? – Angel!” Buffy dogged his heels when he turned away and started walking across the room and out into the lobby. “What do you mean, ‘last time?” She asked again, grabbing his arm and pulling him round.

Growling in annoyance, Angel attempted to pull away from her grip, but she refused to let go. He swallowed thickly, tempted to shove her hard, but then decided what the hell. Let her know just what a bastard he was. He had nothing left to lose.

“I told you I went through a bad time…well, I fired the others.” He watched emotionlessly as Buffy’s eyes widened in surprise and continued on, not bothering to pretty the words. “I got my head together after several months and even more bad decisions; realized what I’d lost.” His broad shoulders dropped a little but darkening brown eyes remained firmly locked with swirling gray-green.

“Earlier that night- before I came here? I went to see them. Asked to go back and help.” He left the rest unspoken, but Buffy gasped anyway, able to fill in the rest herself, unable to squelch the feeling of guilt at the realization of her unwittingly causing yet more problems on both sides.

“Go home, Angel. This isn’t where you need to be.” She finally choked out. “Not anymore.”

“I told you, Ive nothing to go back to.” He replied thickly, his eyes almost black with repressed emotions he seemed unable to let loose.

“Then make it so you have,” Buffy responded, her hand finally releasing its grip on his arm. In response Angel half turned away from her.

“Do you want them back?” She sighed when he remained silent, his large body taut and unyielding. “If you do, Angel, go back and sort it out.” Frustrated anger hardened her voice at his continued reluctance to talk. Blowing out a resigned breath, Buffy moved round him and headed across the lobby to the main door.

After opening it, she paused, her back to him as she spoke for the last time, “ I had to grow up the hard way. It’s about time you did too.”


	3. Looking for Redemption

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ohmyGod! I promised to post this but am warning you now – I HATE THIS SEQUEL! Grrr. One of the most difficult ones to write. Either the content got me or simply my Muse is still refusing to co operate. Please forgive me if you hate it too.
> 
> This work began as a series of vignettes, but took on a life of their own, so are put together now as chapters. I am taking a risk posting it as a big part of me is worried that I will not be able to complete it to the level of decency I hope. Thanks for reading. 
> 
> Cali x  
> *****

***

Tapping the side of her glass with a well-manicured nail, Cordelia eyed to two men sharing the table with a sharp gaze. “So… are you one hundred percent sure they’re of the none-rip-out-your-innards kind?” she asked for the zillionth time, “or are you just saying that to stop me from going with you?”

Wes sighed wearily and sat back in his chair.

“He checked his books. If he says they’re harmless, then that’s what they’re gonna be,” Gunn answered for the older man, reaching out to lightly slap his shoulder with a grin. “When has he been wrong?” he stated rather than asked, confident that her reply would mirror his.

A little mollified, Cordy nodded in agreement. Loosely folding her arms she rested them on the illuminated table top. “Okay, you’ve got me,” she admitted, albeit reluctantly, but an eyebrow arched as she asked; “If they’re so harmless, why didn’t you tell the guy to do it himself?”

“Twelve hundred dollars was good enough reason not to, I think.” Wes said with a smirk, lifting his drink in the air and clinking it against Gunn’s, whose smug expression matched Wes’.

A reluctant smile tugged at the corners of Cordy’s mouth at that timely reminder. “The money will be a godsend, but I’m still not sure how I feel about it,” she finally replied, reaching out a finger to push her glass towards them. “Maybe a beer would help settle the heebie jeebies?” a glint of mischief twinkled in her eyes.

Gunn snorted into his own beer even as Wes sent her a look of ‘You’ve got to be kidding me.’ “You guys are no fun,” Cordy leaned back with a pout pushing out her full bottom lip.

“In our line of business, Cordelia, ‘fun’ has to take a back seat,” deadpanned Wes, then chuckled at the responding finger gesture aimed his way. He’d spent most of the night determined to convince Cordy that her presence wasn’t needed. But being totally honest with himself, Wes would have preferred if she always stayed at home rather than get involved in the fighting side.

Neither man could ignore the pain that Cordelia tried so hard to hide after a vision. No matter how much Wes and Gunn tried to keep vigilant, more often than not she ended up sprawled on the floor. As she lifted her half empty glass, Wes winced almost imperceptibly on noticing an array of faded bruises peeking from the short sleeve of her slinky blue blouse.

It didn’t take ex-ray vision to figure out that most likely her back and shoulders were covered with bruises too. Wes swallowed his mouthful of beer convulsively, his thoughts momentarily turning to their now absent so-called Champion. His mood began to sour until Gunn’s teasing voice brought him back to the present.

“Come on girl, think of all the paper clips you can buy when we pick up the check,” the younger man reminded her with a cheeky wink.

“Pfft, paper clips!” Cordy derided the idea, but the pout melted away as the thought of the well needed money coming their way, a blinding smile lighting up her face. “Our fifth paying customer! “She grinned at the prospect and held her glass out. “Here’s to many more,” The others clinked their drinks to hers amidst echoes of ‘hear hear’ and ‘Kertchingg.”

“To the growing coffers of,” Wes glanced at Cordy before continuing “Anffptthff Investigations.” Her eyes darkened with the memory of using that phrase not so long ago, and Wes, on seeing the telling hint of bitterness strove to lighten the mood.. “Wyndham-Pryce Investigation Agency has a better ring to it I think.” He considered the name half seriously.

“Hell no,” Gunn refuted instantly. “Gunn Investigations all the way.” He sucked his teeth, leaning forward to add with a nod, “It has that edge of cool; just what we need right now.”

“Says you, “Cordy retorted with a giggle.. “Sounds like we’re some kind of shady weapons dealer. Chase Investigations.” She added with a gleam in her eyes. “It just screams chic and elegance, doncha think?” Both men shook their heads, Wes commenting that ‘chic’ wasn’t what came to mind when thinking of what they did for a living.

An easy silence fell between them, and for a while they forgot about the Mission that more often than not left them exhausted and aching. The appearance of another client a few days ago had done a lot to bolster their flagging spirits. Plus it was wonderful to be able to have something to celebrate after so many months of struggle.

Draining the last of her drink, Cordy again proffered her glass with a hopeful smile. “You know, guys, one tiny little beer wouldn’t hurt,” she wheedled, then added pointedly, “It would go part of the way to making up for the long and exhausting day I’ve had.” Her attempt to guilt them into agreeing fell on deaf ears, and a dramatic sigh burst from her when they slurped their beers with evil little smirks.

“No fair.” Cordy slumped in her seat. “It’s not my fault I’m physically younger than my mental age.”

Gunn’s smirk widened, while Wes leaned over the table and patted her hand with a teasing glint in his eye. “Just one more year to go, then I promise I’ll make it up to you,” he reassured her, quickly moving his beer from Cordy’s snatching hand.

After blowing out a resigned breath, Cordy let it go, her mind going back to her original concerns. She eyed Wes with a hint of worry in her narrowed eyes. “Are you sure these Demons are really harmless?” she asked.

Both men groaned into their beers.

* * *

_Crap!_ The curse resonated in Wes head as his heart sped up in pure fear when catching sight of three demons playing cards at the rickety table set up in the only clear area of the vast storage warehouse.

Swallowing convulsively in an attempt to moisten his rapidly drying mouth, he leaned towards Gunn, who crouched next to him behind a low stack of crates, without taking his eyes off the demons. “We need to get out of here now.” He whispered harshly.

“Huh?” Gunn’s head shot round in surprise, his own mouth drying at the sight of Wesley’s rapidly paling face. “What’s the problem?” he whispered back.

“I, um… made a mistake,” Gunn swallowed thickly at the expression of growing dread on Wes’ drawn face. “Those are _Cremur_ demons, not Crealus.” He whispered back through gritted teeth, attempting to swallow down the fear that had begun to rise from his churning gut.

“I’m guessing by your extra-pasty face that that means trouble,” Wes almost rolled his eyes at the understatement of the year, and then licked his lips before replying.

“Think at least four times the strength, tough skin and retractable hooks for fingernails. We need to leave _now!_ ” Wes added desperately, edging backwards even as he hissed out the words .

They almost made it to the side door before the sound of a clattering chair and a roar sounded out behind them. Shoulders drooping in pained resignation, both men turned to see one of the demons had risen to its feet, black gaze pinning them to the spot; nostrils flared in rage. Gunn whipped out his Axe and straightened up, his dark face outwardly expressionless even as he inwardly recited a desperate prayer.

Wes retrieved the compact but deadly crossbow that had been slung over his shoulder and readied it, swallowing down his burgeoning fear that they most likely wouldn’t survive the confrontation. His eyes widened upon seeing what were a moment ago normal fingers now flexed and sporting deadly claws.

Shoving the chair out of the way with a guttural snarl, it lumbered towards them. The other two, Wes noted sickly, didn’t even bother to do more than turn their grotesque heads and watch. It was painfully clear to both men that the demons didn’t regard them as a serious threat, obviously confident in the knowledge that their cohort could deal with the interruption without their help.

Steadying his slightly trembling hands, Wes loaded and aimed the crossbow and let loose a bolt. It sank deeply into the demons shoulder, but after staggering only momentarily from the impact, it kept coming. Instinctively both men retreated a few steps.

Gunn weighed his Axe in both hands, readying himself for the moment the demon came within range. Unfortunately, that left Wes unable to aim and fire the crossbow, so, with a fatalistic shrug he instead gripped it tightly and used it as a club, grateful for the fact the chassis was solid steel.

Several desperate blows later and the demon swung up a heavily muscled arm and sent Wes flying into a small stack of crates, while the weapon landed with a loud clang in the opposite direction. Luckily the crates were sturdy and instead of splintering on impact, the wood flexed and he rebounded heavily onto the floor.

Groggily shaking his head, Wes looked up dazedly to see that Gunn, although as of yet unhurt, the Axe he’d been swinging tirelessly had been wrenched from his blood-slicked hands. Ducking and diving from side to side, attempting to get his boots or fists in but the demon was gradually forcing Gunn back until he was practically hemmed by closely surrounding stacks of crates.

The sight had Wes pulling himself up to his knees, knowing that if he didn’t do something and quickly, his friend would soon be either severely wounded or dead. Groaning under his breath at the sharp twinge that went through his spine, he looked around frantically, and was more than relieved to find that the crossbow lay on the cement floor only several feet from him was still, thankfully intact.

Crawling towards it, trying for both speed and stealth, Wes kept one eye on the demon, pleased to see its back was now turned to him and a gap of several feet separated them. Grabbing the crossbow with one hand, Wes pulled out a bolt and quickly loaded it. Still on his knees, he aimed it at the back of the demon’s head and squeezed the trigger..

The demon dropped to the floor like a stone as soon as the bolt sunk into its skull with a sickening thud–and not a moment too soon, Wes thought, relieved on finding his friend had somehow managed to avoid injury..

Both men remembered simultaneously that the danger wasn’t yet over and tensed in readiness to face the other demons. Wes climbed shakily to his feet and Gunn automatically reached down for his Axe straightening out of his defensive crouch, identical frowns of confusion marring their brows at the unexpected sight that awaited them.

After exchanging a stunned look, they walked slowly forward keeping their weapons clutched close to their chests. Not far from the now overturned table, the other demons lay sprawled awkwardly on the cement floor. Although completely still, Wes and Gunn still eyed them with not only shock but deep suspicion.

After warily searching the surrounding darkness even as they circled the corpses Gunn signaled for Wes to stand back and keep his guard up while he crept over to the nearest of the bodies and tentatively dropped to his haunches to check it out, his large frame tensed and ready to spring away in the remote off-chance it was a trap..

Wes let out a held-in breath and relaxed as soon as Gunn’s coiled body loosened a little. He scratched his head in perplexity. What the hell had happened? Wondered Wes, totally thrown by the evidence before their stunned eyes.

“This is just too freaky, man” Gunn muttered out loud, his dark eyes darting around with growing suspicion, his Axe still held defensively in front of him. “These dudes are definitely dead.” He added.

Moving closer, Wes peered down and asked numbly, “We didn’t kill them, right?”

Gunn stared at Wes with raised brows before replying. “Unless we both had some kind of weird ass blackout I’d say a big fat nope to that,” his tone reflecting complete bafflement.

Shaking his head Wes walked over and checked the other corpse. “We didn’t do this.” he responded with growing certainty but was no less confused by the whole scenario.

Leaning in a little closer, Gunn carefully examined the twisted throat of the demon, then shook his head before glancing up at his friend; a deep frown marring his brow. “You know what? This technique kinda looks familiar.”

Wes lifted an eyebrow in surprise and went over to lean in for a closer look. A shiver worked its way down his spine as he scrutinized the corpse; its head wrenched round to almost 360 degrees. He straightened up releasing a heavy sigh as he did so.

“A broken neck is a broken neck,” he replied, even as doubt colored his subdued tone. Someone -or something had obviously intervened, definitely saving their hides but as to who it could have been or why… “I doubt there is a special technique involved,” he added.

“I suppose,” Gunn agreed with a sigh, rising quickly to his feet. “This whole scene is seriously giving me the creeps. Let’s get out of here.” He gave Wes a light nudge and as one they headed towards the entrance. “Whoever–or whatever did this might still be around.”

The chilling thought had Wes picking up his pace. “Good idea,” he agreed, earlier confusion quickly replaced by renewed fear. Neither man relaxed until safely ensconced in Gunn’s truck.

“I think we should keep this to ourselves,” Wes suggested after a moment’s thought.. “No need to worry Cordelia unnecessarily.”

Gunn grinned knowingly. “You just don’t want to admit to our girl that you got it wrong, English.”

Wes instantly stiffened and glared offended at his smirking friend. “I did not,” he denied heatedly. “It was the client actually. He gave me the wrong description.”

“Sure he did,” Gunn snickered. “’Like he’d know the difference – considering he ain’t exactly a supernatural know-it-all like you.”

The light banter continued as they pulled away from the shadow of the deserted warehouse behind them, oblivious to the narrowed dark eyes trained on them from the roof.


	4. Chapter 4

Pacing the floor, Cordy kept one eye on the door and one on the clock on the mantle. “Where the hell _are_ they?” she asked herself for the tenth time in the past hour.

Wes and Gunn had been gone for well over two hours and to say she was anxious was the understatement of the century. “They could at least call me and tell me they aren’t….” Cordy couldn’t finish the dreaded sentence, Right now, it would be like tempting fate, she thought, her anxiety growing by the second.

_Oh God, what would I do without them?_ she wondered almost blubbering at the thought, then berated herself for thinking like that. But they were the only family she had–now. It had been bad enough worrying about Angel, but he had supernatural abilities; something Wes and Gunn were lacking. Her full mouth tightened at the thought of her once-friend, now living it up in SunnyHell. Okay, not exactly, _living_ , but… God, she still couldn’t get her head around his abandonment. It still hurt, dammit.

Her thoughts pulled back to her biggest concern and the pacing gathered momentum. Absently, Cordy rubbed the back of her neck, a tingly feeling had crept up and refused to move for the past half hour and now it was bugging the hell out of her.

What if it was like some kind of premonition? She wondered sickly. Sometimes it really sucked that the PTB couldn’t let her know that things were okay. It was one of the reasons Cordy demanded to accompany them. At least that way, she was there to see with her own eyes- to help out some way.

With a heavy, irritated sigh, she kneaded the nape of her neck and stalked angrily over to the window to look outside, then almost jumped out of her skin when the door abruptly opened. “Arrgh!” she yelled, swiveling round with her hands clutching her chest- then sagged in relief to find her two champions, looking worse for wear traipsing slowly in.

“Are you two _trying_ to give me a heart attack?” she began, but the anger scrunching her lovely features was mixed with worry as she took in their bruised faces and torn, dirty clothes. “My God, look at you!” rushing forward, she reached out and grabbed Wes’ jacket, pulling it open to check for injuries. “Are you hurt?” she asked, her voice wobbling a little.

Wes caught her hands and squeezed them gently. “We’re fine.” He assured her soothingly.

“You don’t look ‘fine,’” she retorted shakily and pulled her hands loose and reached up to help remove his bloodstained jacket.

“It’s not our blood, Cordelia, please calm down,” Wes shrugged out of the jacket and gestured to his blood-free shirt.

Reassured, Cordy turned to Gunn and tugged his jacket off too, ignoring his complaints. “Even so, you look like crap,” Cordy let out an absent smile as Dennis relieved her of the jackets. A small frown creased her brow when Wes immediately reached out to grab his jacket. Wes ignored her perplexed expression and rifled through the pockets before handing it back to Dennis.

“We stopped off at Mister Benedicts on the way back, and collected this.” He held out the piece of paper with a triumphant smile. Cordy took it from him and unfolded it, a wan smile tilting her lips when she realized it was the check they so badly needed.

The smile fought with a glare. “So this is why you took so long,” she commented, then poked Wes in the chest hard. “You were gone a long time. Didn’t it occur to you to call me?” Her annoyed expression slipped slightly, showing the deep worry and fear that had obviously hounded her in their absence, and Wes immediately felt remorse for not thinking of letting her know they were okay.

“I’m sorry, we didn’t think.” He swallowed down the lump that formed recalling his mistake and thought again as to how close they’d been to death. Whatever had happened to turn it around, Wes could only be thankful, for Cordelia’s sake especially.

“Yeah, well. Don’t do it again… But I still don’t get it,” Cordy continued on, oblivious to the furtive glances Wes and Gunn quickly shared. “I thought you said it was just a case of moving them on- what happened?” ” she asked, her confusion palpable.

Before Wes could think of a response, Gunn reached out and squeezed her shoulder affectionately. “Don’t get your panties in a bunch, Cor. They just didn’t wanna move their butts without a fight,” he replied, throwing in a careless shrug for effect.

“They were obviously not used to physical confrontations, so their resistance didn’t last long,” Wes added to the reassurance then quickly changed the subject when it appeared that she wasn’t quite ready to let it go. “Mister Benedict made the check out to cash, so I thought we could all go to the bank first thing.”

“Yeah, then maybe go to Giordino’s for a celebratory chowdown,” Gunn inserted, stretching his frame tiredly on the couch. At the mention of the Italian cafeteria that served Cappuccino’s and fresh cream pastries to die for, Cordy was suitably distracted.

Wes let out a soft sigh of relief under his breath and walked over to join Gunn, wearily dropping to the couch and simply watched with a faint smile as she talked about the delights of the Cafeteria’s menu.


	5. Several nights later…

“Come on English. We’re gonna miss the match.”

Wes glanced at his watch with a slight frown. “We have forty minutes, yet,” he replied absently. “Let me just collate these invoices and we can be on our way.”

Gunn shook his head and leaned back against his desk. “Dude, we only _have_ two. How long can that take?” He asked with an exasperated grin. Wes ignored him and continued to write in the ledger with care.

“Cordy’s so gonna whip our butts if she gets there before us,” Gunn smirked when Wes instantly sped up at the thought, hopping onto his own desk and swinging his legs impatiently.

The three of them had taken to regular social activities in order to ease the strain of keeping the Agency going. Neither would admit that weariness had become a problem as they struggled to continue with the Mission, and when Wes had mentioned his once-weekly night out enjoying a relaxing game of darts at a public house he’d stumbled upon several months ago, it didn’t take much persuading to get the others to join him.

Surprisingly, the weekly event ended up being more relaxing than spending nights that weren’t taken over by fighting visions at home. It became a treat to look forward to each week – something they could actually afford to do.

“Done!” Wes shut his desk drawer with a flourish and rose to his feet. Gunn opened his mouth to reply when the small bell above the agency door jangled. Both men instantly looked towards the source of the sound with forming smiles on their faces, which instantly faded as they took in their visitor.

“Angel.” Wes pulled his jacket from the back of his chair before moving round the desk, slowly sliding his arms into the sleeves. He glanced towards Gunn warningly when the younger man straightened up from his desk and took a threatening step forward, his dark face set in angry lines. “To what do we owe this unexpected, um pleasure?” He ignored the hiss of air that sucked through Gunn’s clenched teeth and stepped forward until level with his colleague.

“Pleasure my ass,” Gunn interjected with a scowl. “What the hell are _you_ doing here?” he added harshly, every line of his big body reflecting his anger at the presence of someone he’d lost faith in months ago. Hell, he’d been willing, albeit reluctantly, to give the vampire a chance, but after turning his back on them again… As far as Gunn was concerned, Angel had used all his Get Out of Jail Free cards.

Closing the door but remaining in front of it, Angel kept his eyes pinned to Wes, who had frozen to the spot in shock. “I’m back,” He replied simply.

“Back?” Wes echoed, confusion building by the second. “To collect the rest of your belongings, I presume?” he finally responded, unable to keep the ice out of his tone as the recollection of Cordelia’s wan face came back to haunt him.

“No.” For a second, Angel’s dark eyes flickered away from his, and Wes could have sworn he’d seen a fleeting tinge of shame. “I’m back for good.”

“Oh,” Wes’ eyes widened in surprise, then he removed his glasses – a habit long established whenever thrown off balance.

Pulling a handkerchief from his jacket pocket, his mind reeled as he absently polished them, at a loss for words even as Gunn muttered “Yeah, right” with a curled lip.

Hastily gathering his thoughts together Wes slid on his glasses and cleared his throat before speaking. “I’m sure whatever… disagreement you’ve had with Buffy will soon blow over.” he assured. His voice reflected a marked lack of interest and he wasn’t that surprised to receive an irritated gaze.

Straightening up from the door, Angel shoved his hands into his pants’ pockets before responding. “We haven’t had a ‘disagreement’. I just realized I’d made a mistake.” His eyes flickered to Gunn, who pursed his lips and looked up towards the ceiling with an expression of marked boredom.

“You seem to make a lot of those, Angel,” Wes replied brusquely, it suddenly dawning on him that he no longer cared to hear his ex-boss’ reasons for returning. He paused before adding; “If this is purely a social visit, then I’m afraid your timing is a little off.” He glanced pointedly at his watch.

Gunn straightened up, his eyes locking with the vampire’s. “Yeah, we have places to be. “People to meet.” His lip curled, “And unlike some undead dudes I could mention, we don’t wanna leave her hangin’ high and dry.” He watched with satisfaction when Angel’s mouth tightened at the not-so-subtle dig.

Wes fidgeted on the spot, wanting this to be over, but not entirely comfortable with outright rudeness. It was times like these that he wished for a healthy portion of Gunn’s gumption. As the strained silence continued, it became too much for him and he felt compelled to ask what had hovered on the tip of his tongue since his ex boss had unexpectedly turned up.

“Angel…why exactly _are_ you here?”

Angel bent his dark head; seemingly taking a sudden interest in his boots. A muscle in his jaw jumped erratically, and for a moment Wes thought he wasn’t going to reply. Then he looked up. “I was hoping you might need some extra muscle.”

A stunned silence pervaded the room. Wes’ mouth gaped, not entirely sure if the knot in his gut was caused by pure shock or a raging fury at the sheer nerve of the vampire. Either way, speech was at present impossible.

Gunn recovered first and took a threatening step forward. “We’re doing just peachy without you,” he literally spat out the words. “Don’t let the door hit your self-lovin ass on the way out.”

Angel’s Broad shoulders stiffened and his eyes flared hotly before extinguishing just as rapidly. He took in a breath, and it was obvious to the others that he was making an effort to relax his jaw before finally responding; his voice a flat monotone. “It didn’t look that ‘peachy’ the other night.” Unreadable eyes glanced from one man to the other letting his words sink in. It didn’t take long.

Gunn visibly tensed, but surprised Wes by choosing to keep his mouth shut. Not that there was much either of them could say. Not like he hadn’t doubted they wouldn’t have survived without interference.

But still… Wes was uncertain as to whether to be grateful or just plain angry that it had been Angel who’d unexpectedly stepped in. He quickly reminded himself that it was something that would have had less chance of occurring if he hadn’t left himself, Gunn and Cordelia to fight his battles in the first place.

Thoughts of Cordelia had him automatically glancing at his watch, noting that if they didn’t make a move shortly, they would be late. The unnerving image of his friend tapping her foot with a glare that could melt steel came to him – which then brought to his mind how this unexpected news would affect her. That added reminder strengthened his resolve.

Blue eyes reflecting a deep-seated bitterness pinned wary brown. “I’m afraid we have no vacancies at present,” his tone implying anything but regret. “But if you’d like to leave your number, we’ll be sure to contact you if that changes.” Catching Gunn’s approving nod, Wes let out a relieved breath and walked forward with renewed determination.

Brushing past the unnaturally still vampire, he grasped the handle and pulled open the door, indicating the exit with his other hand. Angel ignored the gesture and turned fully to face his ex employee.

“Those visions are for me, Wes. You know that,” he reminded Wes, his voice thick with an indecipherable emotion. .

After several moments of hushed silence, Wes realized his mouth was again hanging open. Shutting it with a loud click of his teeth, he swallowed several times. Catching Gunn’s belated but aggressive move forward in his peripheral vision, he reached out a staying hand, taking advantage of the move to control his own tumultuous reaction.

By the time his gaze lifted, they were completely devoid of emotion. “Yes, we do know” Wes agreed stonily. “It’s just a pity _you_ didn’t think of that when you walked away. Again.” Angel had the grace to look away, his broad shoulders sagging slightly as he finally turned to leave.

“Oh, and Angel? A word of friendly advice.” At Wes’ words, Angel paused and glanced back, his lips twisting on easily picking up the sarcasm in the younger man’s tone. “Keep away from Cordelia.” The soft warning hung heavily in the air between them. .

Instantly Angel’s mouth opened but Wes forestalled him with a sharply raised hand. “She’s been through more than enough.”

When no immediate reply was forthcoming, Wes let out a long drawn out sigh. “Goodbye.” The ring of finality caused Angel to stiffen then turn back to face Wes fully.

Anxious to get it over with, Wes stepped back and closed the door softly between them. He turned away with a shaky sigh, grateful not to have to look into those stormy eyes a moment longer. As he walked further into the office, he was unable to resist the urge to look back and was relieved to see that the dark figure on the other side of the glass had finally disappeared.


	6. Tightrope

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A bit of M rated stuff - nothing major, but felt the need to warn those who may not appreciate it. C x
> 
> ********

_Several weeks later”_

Tired, irritable and laden with groceries, Cordy called out to Dennis to open her apartment door. As she stepped over the threshold she rubbed the back of her neck to rid herself of the tingles that had begun the moment she’d stepped down from Gunn’s truck.

Maybe it was because the guys had become more protective than usual the past few weeks. Cordy wasn’t entirely sure, and couldn’t remember when it had started. Normally she’d put it down to the creepy feeling of being watched, but as it happened mostly in her apartment, and her gorgeous panoramic window had only the side of a sheer wall of another block of apartments across from her, she instantly quashed that thought.

Although relieved to be inside, Cordy didn’t relax until the door shut firmly behind her. Then the itch was quickly forgotten as a wave of sheer exhaustion took over.

“Thanks, Dennis. Be a honey and put the kettle on?” Within seconds of her weary request, she heard the sound of water hitting metal and followed it like a beacon. Placing the carton on the small Formica topped table and pulling out a chair, Cordelia flopped into it with a grateful sigh.

It was wonderful to have enough money to stock up. Gunn had accompanied her, much to her annoyance. Their recent hovering drove her nuts, but she did appreciate the lift home especially since shopping wasn’t at the top of her list of fun things to do after a long day at the office and a bone-crushing vision earlier that night. It was a task she could have done without.

As for the over protectiveness, Cordy usually held back from snapping their heads off, having a strong feeling that some of their new and restrictive behavior was guilt-driven. Most visions came out of nowhere and eight times out of ten, she ended up on the floor. They were especially hovery afterward.

A grimace scrunched her face on realizing she’d been absently scratching the nape of her neck- again. It had to be a stress rash caused by all the mollycoddling, she decided, and after promising herself to confront them about it, Cordy pushed it from her mind. Right now bath and bed were on her list of to-dos.

Taking the cup of coffee from Dennis gratefully, Cordy proceeded to reel through the details of her day, sharing with him the good news of another client turning up.

“Okay, I know that’s only three up till now, but it’s a start, doncha think?” She sat back stretching her achy legs, lifting the teaspoon from the sugar to tap it against the bowl.

Relishing every drop of the hot brew, Cordy absently listened as Dennis pottered in the bathroom, running the water in the tub. The rich aroma of violets drifted into the kitchen and she rose in anticipation of a good long soak.  
~*~

Satisfied that Cordy was home and safe, Angel relaxed his taut muscles and shifted his perch on the roof across from her window. He lost sight of her since she entered the kitchen twenty minutes earlier and wondered why he was still there.

He knew her routine pretty well by now. After a particularly heavy day, Cordy headed straight for the kitchen once home, then into her bedroom blocking out his view. She had a habit of half-shutting the door on her way through to the bathroom. Remembering the scent of violets steaming from her rooms during the time they had shared her apartment, Angel heaved a sigh. Unfolding his large frame and half turning to leave, he halted abruptly when catching sight of her leaving the kitchen.

Just one more glimpse of her, he thought, squatting low, continuing to watch a little longer, greedy for the sight of her and reluctant to leave. Framed by the window as she crossed the lounge floor, she paused to stretch her arms above her head. Angel’s eyes lingered on the curves of her breasts, the exposed flash of taut midriff as her shirt pulled against the movement. When her fingers unexpectedly dropped down to undo the buttons on her blouse, shrugging it off smooth shoulders and letting it fall to the ground, he told himself to stop staring and go.

After all, she was home safe and sound. He’d accomplished what he set out to do by checking on her. Now he should just go.

Angel swallowed thickly, eyes riveted on the plump golden flesh revealed by the skimpy silk bra that was now all that covered her torso. An instantaneous image of tugging down the thin straps, of filling his hands with her breasts caused a tightening in his groin. It should have been enough to force his departure, but he was rooted to the spot, his mouth watering.

If catching Cordelia at such an intimate moment was unexpected, his reaction was ten times more shocking. His gaze refused to leave her although he knew it was wrong to watch. She turned, unzipping her floaty skirt. It fell to her ankles revealing the gorgeous length of her legs and the curves of her ass leaving her standing there in two scraps of matching silk and a pair of high heels.

His body instantly hardened, the response confusing him. This was Cordy. A large part of Angel couldn’t understand why seeing her disrobe would get such a reaction. In his long and eventful unlife, he’d seen enough nude women not to be moved by one more, he reasoned. But he was. His gut reaction suddenly reminded of that flash of unexpected lust he’d experienced when confronting her at the new office.

Self-anger surged to the surface. Want and arousal were not emotions Angel was supposed to associate with her. His brow furrowed as he attempted to sort out his head. Maybe it was down to being pissed off that he hadn’t been let back in… If they’d accepted him back he wouldn’t be standing here staring at her in the first place, would he”

So it wasn’t lust he felt, just anger that Cordy had forced him to watch her from a distance for her own safety. It was just habit to watch until she walked into the bedroom, until she closed the door blocking out his view. Only a few more steps and he’d be free to go. Feeling justified in his actions, Angel continued to watch as Cordy kicked off her shoes and walked wearily toward the bedroom. Pushing the door open, she grasped the knob as if to close it out of habit, but paused to rub the back of her neck instead.

When her slim fingers reached for the back fastening of her bra, the bedroom door remained wide open providing him with a surprisingly direct view from his crouched position on the opposite rooftop. Her name rolled off his tongue when she pulled it off and tossed it haphazardly towards the bed willing her to turn around, but she walked directly through to the bathroom out of sight.

Face tight with frustration, Angel cursed virulently and rose abruptly to his feet. There was a huge difference between ensuring Cordy’s safety and lusting after her like a Peeping Tom. If he ever caught anyone doing what he’d just done, Angel knew he would’ve shown the bastard several shades of black and blue. Shaking his head roughly, he dropped soundlessly from the edge of the roof onto the sidewalk below refusing to think along that path.

Angel forced himself to change focus, to turn his mind back to his disastrous confrontation with his ex-colleagues. Although understanding where they were coming from, he refused to give up. The need to prove them wrong had brought Angel to the point of staking out their office and eavesdropping on their conversations so he could be there to help out, making sure to keep out of sight.

It wasn’t always easy, and he knew Wes and Gunn were more than aware of his presence; his guilt making it easy to ignore Gunn’s rapidly growing anger at his interference.

Then there were the visions.

How Angel had stopped himself from barging in each time Cordy had had a vision eluded him right now.

The emotional agony he’d experienced on seeing her fragile body hit the floor time and time again couldn’t have matched the physical pain Cordy had to have endured on contact with the unyielding surface… Angel shuddered as instant replays invaded his guilt-ridden mind.

He’d conceded reluctantly to Wes’ ‘request’ not to confront Cordy, but Angel refused to keep away from her; couldn’t stop himself shadowing her when he was able – watching her when she was at home. But he was quickly realizing it wasn’t enough.

It hadn’t taken Angel long to decide to return to LA, ending up pacing restlessly as he waited for the sun that had come up not long after Buffy had left to set so he could make the journey back.

He’d reminded himself all the way back that he was returning to take up the mission he’d abandoned yet again, shoving down the growing realization that the mission was only part of it.

The cold reception and continued lack in his life of the one person Angel needed to connect to the most was slowly pushing him back into the cold he’d once mindlessly embraced. Things had to change soon, Angel decided grimly, or he’d just have to take things into his own hands.


	7. Two weeks later

[](https://imgur.com/fYZHQvH)

“We can’t stop him from helping.” Wes rubbed a weary hand over his face as he repeated a sentence already uttered many times over the past month, to his friend.

Each time Angel intervened, they would have these pointless discussions. He understood Gunn’s feelings fully on the issue – both were resentful, yet couldn’t argue that it was a help, but still they’d refused have him back. Both agreed on that too.

But the guilt of keeping Angel’s presence and interference from Cordelia was becoming unbearable, only relieved that- for now, anyway, he’d made no attempt to confront her. A month down the line and still Wes had no idea how to resolve this.

Gunn had come up with an overheated solution a few nights earlier. When out on the last vision, he’d yelled out a warning for Angel to back off, but Wes sincerely doubted Gunn’s threats had made an ounce of difference.

“Although I have to admit, each time he’s helped us out it has been at a crucial point.” No matter his reasons, Wes could not deny the vampire his due.

Gunn grunted in reluctant acknowledgement, their chances at those times, of coming out of the fights without being killed or seriously injured had been more or less zero. “We did ok when he was out of LA. We can still hold our own.” Silence followed his words. Both knew they were struggling. They were, after all, only human.

Angel was supposedly the champion to the PTB. But whether that was the case or not, they were the ones out here on the street doing his dirty work. This is what Gunn brought up every time they talked about it, and he knew Wes couldn’t dispute any of it.

First Angel wasn’t around at all, didn’t want them messing with his business, and now he was back and they couldn’t get rid of him. He was dogging their every move, and it drove Gunn nuts.

Wes’ resolve was weakening. “We have to consider Cordelia in all of this,” he finally spoke, weariness and resignation lacing every word. “If anything happened to either of us…” seeing the instant understanding that warred with dissention, Wes left the rest of the sentence unspoken.

Angel’s repeated desertion in the past would be nothing in comparison. Each relied on the other; considered themselves family. The thought of Cordelia being left alone with the visions didn’t bear thinking about.

He knew Angel would make his move then. He also knew no matter how vulnerable, Cordelia would reject him hands down. There was no way Angel could watch her every minute, and Wes didn’t doubt for a second that she would attempt to fight them herself.

Maybe he should rethink their options after all, he thought- and said as much to Gunn, pointing out his worries. “Better now than if the time ever comes that we aren’t around to avoid such occurrences,” he added worriedly.

For the first time since they’d had one of these discussions, Gunn seemed to be willing to reconsider the possibility. He’d come to think of Cordelia as a sister over the many months they’d shared space. He’d lost one to the demon world already and had no intention of losing her too. Any chance of avoiding that was worth thinking about in his book.

But the thought of letting Angel back in stuck in his craw. “He can’t be trusted,” he pointed out doggedly. When Wes opened his mouth to respond, he forestalled him, “Not talking about the fighting side here. What’s it gonna do to Cor? The way I see it, the farther away from our girl he is the better I’ll sleep at night.”

Wes sighed heavily and rubbed his face for what seemed the tenth time that night. “Whether we have Angel back or not, if he wants to confront her, there is little we can do.”

“We ain’t doing too bad a job so far,” Gunn reminded him, his chin lifting stubbornly.

“We can’t watch her 24/7, Gunn,” Wes returned. “And Cordelia is already showing signs of…” he paused, searching for the right word.

“Kicking our Asses?” Gunn supplied helpfully and shrugged when Wes glared at him.

“I was thinking along the lines of mild irritation, actually,” he replied shortly, then sighed, a wry expression on his face.” But you’re probably closer to how she’s feeling right now.” Wes straightened up from the edge of his desk.

“My point is that if Angel returns to the fold, at least we’ll have knowledge of his whereabouts the majority of the time,” Wes reasoned, adding on a upbeat tone; “Which also happens to be when he would be most able to act on any compulsions he may have with regards to Cordelia.” Gunn nodded, his face clearing a little at that.

“A vamp can’t do much in the day.” Rising out of his chair, Gunn grabbed his denim jacket and shrugged it on. “Whatever you wanna do, I’m all over it,” he finally conceded, then frowned on noticing his friends” suddenly tense frame. “What’s up?”

Wes swallowed the forming lump of dread in his throat before looking at his friend. “One last thing,” His nervous tone had Gunn’s whole body tensing. “Who’s going to tell Cordelia how long he’s been back?”

Both men stared at each other and gulped.

~*~

Pacing around her lounge, her teeth clamped on a well-manicured nail, Cordy barely resisted the urge to chew furiously each time she glared in the direction of the open hall closet.

The cute denim jacket she’d bought shortly before asswipe fired them was definitely not in there, or anywhere else in her apartment. Pulling her hand away from her mouth with a frustrated sigh, she flopped down onto the couch and ran restless fingers through already tousled hair as she attempted to recall the last time she’d seen it. Just as she was about to admit defeat, an image of it draped over the back of a chair hit her.

The desk chair at the hotel.

“Damn it!” That jacket had almost cost her a month’s crappy wages- and she wanted it back. Her eyes turned to linger speculatively on the cupboard along the far wall.

A spare set of keys to the hotel lay in one of the drawers. Cordy had kept them, unable initially to accept that she’d been fired. When it became painfully clear that he’d meant it, she’d forgotten all about the keys.

Angel was with the love of his unlife in good ol’ Sunnyhell, and it was still pretty early, she reasoned to herself, and then it occurred to her that maybe he gave away more than just that blouse… Her face tightened in anger at the memory and she shot to her feet.

“I’m going to check it out,” she muttered aloud, determination in every line as she headed for the cupboard. Why let something that belonged to her sit there and gather rot along with his stuff?

Pulling open the right drawer first time round, Cordy hesitated for a split second at the thought of entering Angel’s home… Did she really want to go there, to see it abandoned like so much rubbish like she had been?

A flash of pain struck her unexpectedly, her breath hitching in her throat. Roughly pulling herself together and cursing her momentary weakness, Cordy snatched up the keys and left her apartment.

~*~

Pale lids flickered open and sleep-softened brown eyes cleared in an instant. Something had woken him from his fitful slumber- but what?

Angel rose up on his elbows and cocked his head, every preternatural sense on alert for anything out of the ordinary, then he heard it; the soft thud of the main door. Throwing back the covers, he left the bed and grabbed his pants off the nearby chair, all the time listening out for any clue as to who entered his home.

The familiar tingle at the base of his spine told him that the sun was up, so he ruled out vampires as possible trespassers. Anyway, most of the demons in L.A. knew he was back, so he seriously doubted any would be stupid enough to think of encroaching on his territory.

Whoever- or whatever it was hadn’t used force, so how the hell had they got in, he wondered? It had been a long time since anyone had used the main door, and thus it had remained locked since his return.

Even before Angel reached the top of the stairs, he knew exactly who his visitor was, her scent achingly familiar. Anticipation as well as curiosity grew with each step down the stairs. As his eyes fixed on her in the dimmed lobby, he wondered what had brought her here. About a month had passed since his return and as far as he knew, the others hadn’t told her he was back.

~*~


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is my last completed chapter to this fic, I'm afraid. Things are a bit hectic atm. so not sure when I'll get back to writing.
> 
> ****

The jacket wasn’t there.

Cordy blew out a frustrated breath and quickly glanced around, shuddering a little as she attempted to breach the gloomy shadows.

She hadn’t wanted to turn on the overhead lights when first arriving, still reeling from the signs of neglect that were visible even without the harsh glow of yellow. Cordy hadn’t wanted the extra reminder of the end of that part of her life, but judging by the state of her desk, it had to be worse than when Angel had first moved in here.

Running a finger through the thick dust on her desk brought a eww of disgust, and she quickly wiped her hand down the side of her jeans and concentrated on the reason for being here in the first place. Her jacket.

He must have given _that_ away too,” she muttered furiously and half turned away. “Why am I not surprised? Asswipe- ARGH!” the short scream died in her throat on recognizing the dark man-shaped shadow hovering directly behind her.

“What are _you_ doing here?”

~*~

Angel had moved soundlessly across dark lobby until he was less that a foot behind her, then stopped. He watched as she ran a finger through the dust. Cleaning up the place had been the last thing on his mind, but after hearing her sound of disgust he promised himself it would be done before nightfall.

Then she was turning towards him, muttering bitterly under her breath about him giving away her clothes. Angel jolted and guilt blossomed in his chest at her words- then she screamed, fear tightening her lovely features for an instant until shocked recognition quickly silenced her knee-jerk reaction.

A wave of anger unexpectedly hit him. He could have been anybody- _thing_ , and she was defenseless. Considering where she’d grown up and their line of work, that fact suddenly made him want to show her just how rash she’d been.

But after looking directly into her wide beautiful eyes he soon quashed that impulse as another deeper realization took over: the confirmation of what he already knew to be true. That without her he had no real purpose.

Taking a step back to give her space, Angel opened his mouth to apologize, but Cordy spoke first. “What are _you_ doing here?” the shock still evident in every line in her face

“I live here” Angel replied distractedly, still a little giddy at finding himself face to face with her after so long. As an angry frown began to crease her brow, he quickly pulled his wits about him and added “I moved back about a month ago.”

The frown vanished, but for a long moment Cordy silently stared up at him and for once he wasn’t able to read her expression. Even knowing he deserved her anger, it still burned that she was able to close him out. Then she turned her back on him and pulled open the top drawer of her desk. He resisted the urge to pull her back round to face him, instead waiting on tenterhooks for her reply.

Rifling blindly through sparse contents, Cordy used the distraction to find her equilibrium after hearing how long Angel had been back.  
“So, what happened?” she finally asked, attempting to keep her tone on neutral ground; it didn’t last.

Her tone sharpened into bitterness. “Buffy find out what a total bastard you really are and kick you out of her bed?” Silence as thick as molasses surrounded her harshly spoken words.

Feeling the heavy weight of his eyes drilling into the back of her head became too much to bear and Cordy risked a glance over her shoulder, making sure to avoid his gaze. “Oh, I forgot. You had an ‘epiphany’,” she air quoted, sarcasm taking over, “Not a ‘Get out of Eunuch’ card.” Not waiting for his reply, she turned away and roughly pulled open another drawer, inwardly cursing her big mouth.

She didn’t know this man … vampire anymore, yet here she was riling him up with every word that dropped out of her angry mouth. A sudden flash came to her of his expression as he’d pressed her body against the bookcase at their ‘new’ office.

_“Don’t make me move you…”_

Angel quietly repeated what he’d told the others, then, unable to help himself decided to correct her continued assumption. “The curse isn’t about sex, Cordelia. It’s about forgetting who I am. That could never happen again.” Cordy’s shoulders tensed and her hands paused for a moment before continuing her search.

“How long are you staying this time?” His revelation stunned her, and the thought that Angel had found this out recently by putting his theory into practice caused a knife-like pain to twist into her already bruised heart.

It was easy to guess what was going through her mind at his revelation, but it was too late to take back his words, instead Angel stuck to answering her question. “I’m not leaving.”

Cordy pffted softly and reached into the last drawer. Irritated with her avoidance tactics, Angel grabbed her arm and pulled her to face him – then froze when she swung round holding a stake tightly in her free hand. Although her survival instincts had been on the slow side, he had to admire her accuracy as she homed in over his unbeating heart.

Cordy lifted the stake she’d found in the drawer and pressed it against his naked chest. “Don’t _touch_ me,” she ground out angrily. She tensed when feeling his fingers flex on her arm before releasing her, surprised that he hadn’t instinctively stepped back and away from the sharp point of the stake.

Letting his arms hang loosely at his sides, Angel remained still, but Cordy still didn’t drop the stake, her widened eyes wary as well as angry. Both were acutely aware of the tip of the stake pressing into his skin just over his heart. The fine tremor in her hand had him choosing his next words with care.

“I want to help.”

A finely arched brow lifted. “Been there, heard that,” Cordy whispered through tense lips.

“It’s the truth,” Angel responded evenly. “That Gorscha demon they faced would’ve gutted one of them if I hadn’t stepped in when I did.” So desperate to prove himself that he unintentionally dropped the others in it. He might as well have told her he was helping out with the visions, and didn’t doubt that his slip would bite him on the ass- especially when it came to getting the others to take him back.

Shocked to the core, Cordy stared up at him speechless. She remembered getting a vision about that particular demon last week; easy to do considering the name of it sounded so like one of the imported beers Wes and Gunn occasionally brought round to her apartment- and never shared. Her brow creased with the annoyance she still felt about that, but it was fleeting as she quickly went back to the night in question.

They’d come back looking worse for wear and acting moody. At the time Cordy had assumed it was just bone crushing weariness, since she’d had three visions in as many days, so hadn’t pushed them for details.

The stake eased a little and she asked, “Wes and Gunn know you’re back?” Angel nodded, careful not to make any sudden moves- although her hold had relaxed slightly, the stake was still close enough to cause real damage.

Cordy refused to believe that. They would have told her. She took a calming breath but it didn’t help. Angel had to be trying to cause dissent, she decided. Even if he was helping, it wasn’t because the guys wanted him there. Not after everything that had happened.

“You’re lying!” she finally accused hotly, her grip once again tightening around the smooth wood. “I don’t believe Wes – and definitely not Gunn, would have you back.” The distrust in her narrowed eyes cut him to the quick.

“They haven’t,” he admitted flatly. “Refused outright.”

Cordy frowned in confusion. “Then how-?”

Angel’s eyes averted from her angrily questioning look. “I…lurk.” He reluctantly admitted, then looked her straight in the eye, his expression unrepentant. He refused to regret his actions since coming back.

None of them.

Understanding dawned in Cordy’s eyes. He must have been watching them to know where the visions were taking place. Her pupils dilated in anger when she also recalled the tingles that had assailed her for weeks. The tingles she’d put down to stress even when knowing it but ignoring that it had to be something more. He’d been stalking her! Even at her apartment!

The thought of her privacy being compromised -by him of all people caused her to feel both furious and freaked out, always looking behind her at night lately. Feeling uncomfortable, on edge even in her own home.

Swallowing convulsively, she pressed the stake hard against his skin. “You have no right to do that!” Cordy retorted angrily, unconsciously stepping a little closer she added; “Leave us alone- and keep away from my apartment- me! You're not welcome!”

His wide mouth thinned and he leaned in, even as his muscles tensed at the added pressure of the wooden tip. “You may not want me in your life, but you can’t stop me from watching over you- them.” Angel responded darkly, eyes locking with hers.

“I can if you’re dust,” she threatened. Her fury growing, she pressed the tip until it lightly punctured the surface of his skin, which reddened instantly.

Angel hardly felt it, his blood heating as emotions ran high. He then spread his arms, outwardly relaxed. “Go ahead”, he offered, keeping his face and voice deliberately blank. Their eyes clashed for several long seconds; his unreadable, hers rich with a multitude of emotions.

Letting out a strangled breath, Cordy suddenly reared back and hit him across the face with the stake, furious that she couldn’t bring herself to do it. His head lashed abruptly to the side, and when he turned back to face her she noted with barely hidden horror the slow well of blood seeping from the corner of his mouth, the surrounding skin rapidly discoloring under her stunned gaze.

After a long moment of shocked silence, Cordy found her voice; refusing to feel bad over what she’d done. “Stay the hell away from me, Angel,” she warned in a low trembling voice, then pushed past him and stalked off, head held high.

Angel turned to watch her go, absently lifting a hand to his mouth to wipe the blood away. His dark eyes remained fixed on the main doors even after they thudded shut behind her. As he heard her heels clatter quickly along the path until they faded into the distance, the deep brown irises flickered with building heat and determination.

“Not a chance in hell” he whispered hoarsely.

**Author's Note:**

> Oh, what a tangled web we weave ...


End file.
